


hero

by schlatt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drarry, Feelings, First Kiss, Fluff, Good Draco, Hero Harry, M/M, No Smut, One Shot, PG, Roomates, Worried Harry, draco trauma, pinning, pre goblet of fire, short fic, soft fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23116135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schlatt/pseuds/schlatt
Summary: Maybe Draco Malfoy isn't that bad after all.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 161





	hero

{ this takes place in between the prisoner of Azkaban and goblet of fire.)

\---

Harry sat in his bedroom at 4 Privet Drive, up later than he’d like to be, revising homework while there wasn’t anyone awake to catch him. He’d been doing the same thing for years now, sleeping during the day ( as much as they allowed him to ) only to stay up all night and study. There are two weeks until the school year starts, and the thought of going back to Hogwarts despite how dangerous it maybe is the only thing that’s keeping him going. That and the fact it seems like the future of the wizarding world is in his hands, but he’ll choose not to think about that either right now. 

His attention is drawn away from his homework when he hears an unfamiliar noise outside, sounding like there were multiple standing in the front garden. Grabbing his wand from his bedside table and tucking his books under his bed he slowly makes his way out of his room, following the hushed voices. He walks down the stairs and to the front door, now finally being close enough to hear that there were, in fact, multiple people outside, exactly how many Harry wasn’t sure. He sat on the doorstep, ear to the door, wand in hand, listening. 

“ The boy’s been through so much, I don’t think this is the right place for him.” A male voice said, sounding concerned for whoever he was speaking of. “ No, Kingsley. If he were anywhere else he’d be in danger, this is the safest place for him. “ Sounded a different voice, this time female.

“He needs medical attention, he needs to go to St. Mungo’s. He’s been crucio’d-”

“ It’s too dangerous for him there, he needs to go somewhere you-know-who won’t be able to find him.”

“Harry doesn’t need this- “

“You don’t even know Harry, Harry is-”

On hearing his name get mentioned along with St. Mungo’s Harry quickly realized that whoever it was beyond the door are in fact wizards, but why are they here? What are they talking about?

“Enough.” Harry knew that voice anywhere, that was the voice of Albus Dumbledore. Harry was tempted to open the door and greet him knows better than to do so- He doesn’t want anyone knowing he’s been listening in. 

“ I, and many others, put a very, very powerful protection spell on this house before leaving Harry here after his parents past. There is no place on earth safer for the pair of them. Let’s go inside.”

Harry jumped up and sprinted upstairs, running as fast as he could without making noise to alert anyone he’d been out of his room. He entered and closed the door behind himself, quietly, just in time for him to hear someone unlock the front door.

Harry throws his wand back into his bedside drawer and pulls his homework out from under his bed, knowing that he was far too awake to pretend to sleep and he’d rather be caught doing homework than listening in on private conversations. 

In no time his door swung open and there stood Albus Dumbledore looking as grand as always, behind him another man, African in appearance adorned with what Harry only assumed to be traditional African robes. They weren’t like anything he’d seen but gorgeous, he’s almost envious that he can’t wear something of the sort. 

“ Dumbledore?” Harry said, genuinely sounding surprised because, well, he is. Albus looked disgruntled, hair messy, robes a little dirty, but that charming smile on his face hadn’t faded at all. “Harry. This is Kingsley Shacklebolt.” Albus motioned between the pair and Kinsgley held out a hand to shake as Harry jumped to his feet and took it. “ It’s lovely to meet you, Harry.”

‘ I’d hoped the pair of you could have met at a better time but the situation is rather urgent. I need to ask a favour of you and your aunt and uncle- could you please fetch them for me?”

Harry nodded, tucking his hands behind his back, his face flushed with nerves. “ Of course, sir.” 

The pair left the room, walking back downstairs in complete silence leaving Harry to fetch the Dursleys. Waking them up wasn’t an easy task, he’d almost had a lamp thrown at him but thankfully Harry mentioned Dumbledore being in the house before Vernon had the chance. 

Harry, quickly wanting to escape the raft of Petunia and Vernon Dursley fled downstairs. Nothing could prepare him for what he found. 

There sat in the centre of the room was no one other than Draco Malfoy. He looked awful, bleeding from his temple and nose, dark bruises covering every piece of skin that was visible to Harry, eyes sunken in and black. On closer inspection Harry noticed that Draco was also extremely dirty, hair curly and matted, fingernails black with grime, robes tattered- Harry, for the first time in his life, felt very, very bad for Draco Malfoy. 

Albus crept up on Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper into Harry’s ear. “ You need to take care of him, Harry. He did something very, very brave and for it, he’s been through a lot. “

The idea of taking care of Draco seemed like a cruel and unusual punishment but there wasn’t a chance Harry was going to voice that opinion right there, while Draco looked like that. He finally pulled his eyes from Draco to look at Dumbledore and replied. “I promise.”

In perfect timing Petunia and Vernon descended the staircase beside them, dressed as if they were about to head out for a dinner date… at 3 am. 

Harry sat down on the couch opposite Draco, his eyes plastered on him. There were now tears in Draco’s eyes and he hadn’t looked up, not even once. 

“ We’re sorry for waking you up at such an hour, Petunia but it’s rather an emergency,” Albus said, not acknowledging Vernon’s existence which left the plump man with a disgruntled look on his face. 

“This is Draco Malfoy, a friend of Harry’s. He urgently needs a place to stay just until Hogwarts reopens and this house is the only place safe enough, we know you’re both lovely people-”

Vernon was about to refute but Albus pushed through his inquiries to continue speaking “-We’ll give you £250 for each week upfront just to cover his food costs.” Vernon's expression quickly changed from one of anger to curiosity. 

“ Do we have a deal?” Albus smiled charmingly, holding his hand out once again to Petunia rather than Vernon who, surprisingly to Harry, actually took it. “ Is there anything else we should know?”

Harry was sure Petunia was only acting this way to impress Albus, not wanting to show her true colours to a group of wizards and witches who’d be able to hex her on sight. He rolled his eyes and glanced back at Draco who, unbeknownst to him, had been glancing at him as well. They both quickly looked away from one another, paying attention once again to the conversation at hand. 

“-Both Harry and Draco have had their underage magic ban lifted, they can protect themselves however they deem necessary.” Shacklebolt had joined in the conversation while Harry wasn’t paying attention and was now glaring down Vernon as he spoke leading Harry to decide right then and there that he likes Shacklebolt quite a lot.

Harry, despite the situation at hand, was thrilled to hear he’d be allowed to use magic outside of Hogwarts. All those dreams he’d had of hexing Dudley into a swarm of flies were becoming a reality right before his eyes. 

Harry hadn’t even noticed McGonagall had left the room until he spotted her walking downstairs and then approaching the pair. “ Harry, could you please escort Draco to your bedroom? You’ll find I've made a few adjustments to it so it’ll fit the pair of you.” 

Harry nodded obediently, standing, waiting for Draco to stand. He quickly realized that Draco simply couldn’t stand by himself and rushed by his side to help him up, ignoring the fact that Draco flinched as his touch as if he found Harry to be disgusting- or terrifying. 

He escorted the other up the flight of stairs and to his bedroom in complete silence, the air around them thick and awkward. Harry knew exactly what he wants to say, he wants to ask Draco what the hell happened to him but he’s not an idiot. Professor Dumbledore avoided the subject, likely because it was uncomfortable for Draco to talk about. 

He had already figured it was either Draco’s parents or Voldemort- or both, that much was obvious. But why? Was Draco not a death eater? His family had been serving the Dark Lord for years, he can’t understand what Draco could have done to be tortured like this. 

Harry pushes the bedroom door open with his foot, his hands already occupied with helping Draco stand. The door swung open to reveal that the room had doubled in size, a bed on each wall, one adorned with Gryffindor red sheets and the other with Slytherin green. Harry quickly carried Draco inside and helped him down on the bed that obviously would belong to Draco, peering past it to see a door that stood at the end of the bed. Upon opening it he found a bathroom that certainly wasn’t there before. Inside was a sink, toilet, shower and tub… Harry was sure he was dreaming. 

“Potter…” Draco croaked, his voice sounding raspy and worn out as if he’d been screaming for days straight. Harry turned back around, knowing that his excitement would have to wait as, despite how little he wanted to, he had to take care of Draco’s wounds. “Could you run me a bath? Please?”

“Okay.” Is all Harry could say, he felt an unsettling wave of emotions flood his body, sprouting inside him like the root of a tree. He felt bad, horribly bad, for every single thing he’d ever said to Draco previous to this very moment despite the fact Draco gave just as good as he got, if not worse. 

Harry excused himself and stepped into the bathroom, kneeling to turn on the tap of the claw-footed tub. He searched the cabinets and found some soap which he squirts into the bath before dropping a few drops of ‘rose essential oil’ into the warm water as well. Harry hadn’t ever had a bath so he wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to do. 

While sitting there watching the water rise he tried to wrap his head around the fact Draco Malfoy was sitting in his bedroom right now and how he genuinely felt sorry for him but that's when it hit him. A burning ache pulsated from his scar and Harry quickly clapped the palm of his hand to it, leaning over the side of the tub, his eyes shutting and glasses falling off into the water. 

Slowly, the sound of running water fades away and is replaced by echoed silence only broken the sound of metal chains being rattled and what Harry assumed to be iron bars being tapped. The darkness was replaced by ghostly, distorted visions of Voldemort standing over him, laughing his horrendous, villain laugh. Harry felt cold, alone, unloved. 

As soon as the pain and visions appeared they left and Harry was sat there, looking stunned. 

5 minutes later Harry decided the tub was full enough so he fetched Draco, helping him up once again, guiding him to the bathroom. “ Can you get into the tub by yourself?”

Neither of the boys had thought that far ahead, both of their eyes widening in sync. Harry helps Draco to sit down on the toilet as they both think the situation through. 

“I’ll… “ Draco started, his voice just as strained as before he cleared his throat before continuing which didn’t help in the slightest “I’ll undress to my briefs and then if you’re willing, can help me into the bath. 

Harry’s face went pink at the idea, but he agreed nonetheless. He could smell that Draco needed that bath more than Harry needed to avoid seeing Draco’s half-naked body and he knew to put aside his modesty like this and asking for help was a challenge for Draco so he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t have to. 

Harry looked away as Draco began looking undressed but couldn’t for long as Draco needed help getting his robes off over his head. He pulls off the robes gently and then crouches down to help with Draco’s shoe, singular because he’s only wearing one. 

Harry wraps his arm around Draco and with one clean movement lifts him off of the toilet seat and guides him to the bath. Getting him into it is a challenge on its own, Harry wasn’t exactly fond of grabbing onto Draco’s thighs and individually lifting both legs into the bath, it made him blush- it was beneficial, though, because Harry discovered that Draco’s left was broken in multiple places. He’d have to fix it. 

Harry left Draco to bathe by himself, sitting down on his bed. He was planning to continue doing his homework but it seems extremely unimportant compared to everything else that had happened tonight, so instead, he searched his now expanded room. 

Not only had his bed duplicated but so had his wardrobe, and now there were two of them. He looked through the one on Draco’s side of the room out of pure curiosity and found it full of clothes that were exactly to Draco’s taste. He then a-lined it to his wardrobe so see if anything had changed and that was also the case; it was full of new clothes, a purse full of muggle money, a book and a small letter. 

“ _Harry._

_I’ve left you and Draco enough money for you both to live very comfortably for the next two weeks, feel free to use it to explore London while you have spare time._

_I’m sorry we have to leave Draco with you like this, but he’s in awful danger and there simply isn’t a safer place for him to be at the moment._

_Draco sent Dumbledore an owl explaining in detail the dark lord's plans and then, foolishly, tried assassinating him over a month ago. The punishment for those actions are partially displayed by his wound, it’s not my place to explain to you what he went through any further._

_Do not contact anyone about this situation for the next week, it’s too dangerous._

_Although I'm sure you’re versed in healing spells I've left you a book on the subject just in case, you’ll have to heal Draco. We didn’t have the time._

_Thank you, Harry._

_Professor McGonagall_. “

Harry placed the note back down in his drawer, picking up the book McGonagall had left. ‘ Glinda’s Guide to Healing Magic.’ Harry chuckled to himself, he knew everything he needed to know from this book thanks to Hermione who’d referenced it far too many times for his liking. He placed it down and sat back down on his bed, waiting for Draco to call. 

“H- Potter, I need help getting out. Please. ” Harry stood, grabbing his wand from the drawer he kept it in and stepped into the bathroom, taken aback by the steam. 

“Let me heal you so you can get yourself out of the tub. “ Harry slowly made his way closer to the bath, not being able to see through his foggy glasses. He blows the steam out of his face and wipes his glasses clean, there sitting before him was Draco Malfoy.

Draco looks a lot better now, he thought. Hair still curled but clean, skin gleaming asides from the bruises, cuts, scars and gashes. It’s in may ways impressive that Draco looks as good as he does being so wounded, but then again Draco always looks good. That's no surprise. 

“Are you sure you know how to do this?” Draco asked, his attitude finding itself again which was a relief to Harry. Harry knelt by the bath, knees wet as he landed in a puddle of water that must have spilt out. 

“Yes, I've healed myself a lot- Ever since Lockhart vanished the bones in my arm. “ Harry smiled at the memory, looking back at it now it was hilarious. Gilderoy Lockhart, famous author and adventurer couldn’t manage a simple healing spell. Of course, Harry knows now he wasn’t an adventurer at all. 

With a murmuring of a few Latin words and a wave of his wand, Draco’s leg fixed itself, an audible cracking coming for it as the many fractures and breaks clicked themselves back together. Another wave of his wand and all of his bleeding cuts healed over, sewing the skin back together and scarring.

Draco was now sitting there mostly healed, only bruised and scarred. Harry can’t help but think of how attractive Draco looks, the last cut on Draco’s lip that Harry may have intentionally declined to heal making him look very, very kissable. Harry felt blood rush to his groin and became aware of the fact he’d been staring at Draco for awfully too long and stood up, pulling down the front of his sweater. 

“ You should be fine to walk down, I'll just uh- go get you something to eat. There are clothes in the wardrobe for you. “ Harry scattered out of there, exiting the room and walking back downstairs to find that it was empty. Everyone had left and Harry assumed Vernin and Petunia had gone back to bed, which he was very grateful for. 

With a wave of his wand, he enchanted the kitchen to make both he and Draco jam sandwiches as he sat down by the island. Leaning against it, head in his hands, he thought of how his next three weeks would be at the Dursley’s now that Draco was staying with them as well. 

Draco and the Dursley’s were very similar in many ways; proud, materialistic, ego’s the size of a double-decker bus. He idea of them getting along and grouping up to destroy Harry’s month was all too realistic, and that scared him. On the other hand, the Dursley’s were fake; fake rich, fake powerful, fake influential… In reality, they are a nuclear family whereas, at least to Harry’s knowledge, Draco’s family were all of that and more. Richer than rich, politicians, according to some they live in a castle. 

Whatever the case, Harry is now allowed to use magic and with that magic, he’ll protect himself- if one thing's for certain, he’s the best wizard under this roof. 

The two enchanted plates slowly lower themselves in front of Harry with two perfectly made jam sandwiches placed on top of them. He takes the plates and walks for the stairs, climbing up them, eager to see how Draco was now that his wounds were healed. 

He pushes the bedroom door open with his bottom before spinning around to face the room, his eyes landing on Draco who was sat on his bed, reading one of Harry’s muggle books. The Dursley’s spent a lot of money on books for Dudley in hopes he’d read them rather than watching television all the time, to no avail. That was good news to Harry because at the very least he’d be able to sneak books from the bookshelf in the living room and give them a read. 

The book Draco was reading, ironic in Harry’s mind, as it was Anne Frank’s diary. He puts away the idea of making a snarky comment and instead places a plate along with the sandwich on top of it beside Draco before sitting on the bed across from him.

Draco looks up from his book, Harry only now notices that the other’s hair was neater than before but still very, very wavy. He likes Draco’s wavy hair, it looks very charming- certainly better than he does with his hair straight. 

Draco must have noticed Harry staring, his face screws up. “ Potter, what are you looking at? I couldn’t find a hair potion anywhere which is ironic given your grandfather invented one, how stupid.”

Harry arched an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “My grandfather did what?”

“Invent a hair potion? You don’t know?”

“Are you joking?”

“Are you laughing?”

“No, i-”

“Then I'm not joking. Your grandfather is the creator behind sleekezy’s hair potion, that's where your family’s money comes from. Sheesh. “ Draco rolled his eyes, crossing his legs, taking a bite from his jam sandwich. 

Harry frowned, putting his aside. Harry knew very little of his family and nothing of his grandparents, he would have liked to know his grandfather was the creator of the only potion that’d deal with his horrible hair. 

No longer hungry he vanished his sandwich into oblivion and laid down on his side, facing away from Draco, wishing the other would shut off the lights but too unmotivated to even bother asking. It wasn’t long until he fell asleep, exhausted from the traumatic events of the night and nervous about the upcoming day. 

\---

Harry woke up to the feeling of sun violently in his eyes, a feeling all too familiar as he slept in a room who’s windows have no curtains. He reaches for his glasses and grabs them, clumsily slipping them onto his face. 

He rolls over and his eyes land on a sleeping Draco, handsome as ever. Constantly acknowledging Draco’s good looks like this can’t be good for him, he thinks. He stopped thinking that way by the second year, around the time he assumed Draco was the heir of Slytherin and hasn’t since. 

There’s one reason why, though, and it’s not because Harry stopped being attracted to the other. It’s because he had a fear someone would find out he’s not only attracted to men but the man he desires the most is one of the most hated people amongst all of his friends, besides Voldemort. He’s also evil himself, there’s no doubt about it amongst the minds of most so what does that say about Harry, the boy who lived? Being attracted to someone who is so evil? 

Maybe he’d changed, Harry thought. McGonagall had mentioned that Draco was only in this mess because he denounced Voldemort and gave up all of the information he knew about the Dark Lord entirely unprompted, with no guarantee of reward. Maybe Draco is good. 

No. 

Draco has proven time and time again that he’s a selfish, prude, evil person who’d manipulate anyone and do anything to get his way, and everyone knows his way is the Dark Lord’s. Harry of all people knew this better than anyone else, remembering the very first day they’d ever met as if it were only mere weeks ago, Draco was even horrible back then. 

Harry looks back to Draco and watches him stir, his face screwing up in his sleep, rolling over. Harry wondered what Draco could be dreaming about for him to visibly react that way but quickly became distracted by the idea of having a shower, which he did. 

Harry showered fast, as usual, washing his body head to toe, spending most of this time on his hair. Towards the middle of the previous school year, Harry had brought up his hair with Hermione, noticing that she’d arrived at Hogwarts that year with a head full of consistent curly hair. She taught him _a lot_ about how to treat curly hair, how he should use all of these conditioners and creams. He’d been doing so ever since and found that his hair was neater than ever; curly, but neat. 

Upon exiting the bathroom, fully dressed and ready for breakfast he found that Draco was nowhere to be seen. Instantly Harry’s stomach did a backflip, and he paused in horror. Had Draco fled? Was this all a sick plot to discover some information for the Dark Lord? A thought struck Harry that made him feel even worse if it were possible; Has Draco attacked his aunt and uncle? Dudley? Sure, Harry hated them with a burning, undeniable rage for the way they’d lied to him and tortured him for years but they still were his family. 

Harry bolted downstairs, wand in hand without a second thought. He almost tripped as he turned a corner on the staircase but continued regardless. Arriving in the living room, Harry paused, grip on his wand loosening as he heard a commotion in the kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary at all. 

He could hear Vernon speaking fondly of Dudley, the clinking of plates, the television blaring with the morning news. Piecing the puzzle together as he slowly walked into the dining room he’d realized Draco had only gone downstairs to get breakfast, his thoughts confirmed when he saw Draco sitting where he’d usually sit, neatly eating a piece of marmalade toast, pretending to be listening to Vernon’s rambles. 

Harry sits down beside Draco in the seat that'd been empty nearly his whole life, only remembering brief occasions when Dudley was forced to sit next to him on account of Aunt Marge visiting. Dudley would always complain every moment up until Marge visited and then continued to afterwards until he was gifted something in return, usually a video game or something of the sort. 

No one acknowledged Harry as he sat down… Besides Draco. Harry had glanced at Draco just in time for him to catch Draco glancing right back, the both of them looking away fast enough to give them whiplash. No one noticed this, thankfully- Harry doesn’t want to know what assumptions Petunia would make. 

“Dudley goes to Smeltings Academy, he’s the top of his year. He takes after his father, he does. Caveat Smeltonia.” Vernon lets out an egotistical chuckle, the kind of chuckle someone makes when they’re very, very proud of himself. It makes Harry’s blood run cold. 

“Let smeltonia beware?” Draco asked, an eyebrow raised. Harry knew that look well, it’s the kind of look Draco gives someone when he finds them to be stupid but doesn’t want to show it for whatever reason, he’d seen it given to many teachers in the past. Besides Snape, of course. 

“Something like that, I don’t know Latin. Knowing any language other than English is stupid if you ask me. What's the point? “ Vernon snickers and eyes Petunia, who reluctantly nods her head in agreement as she finally sits down. Draco shifts in his seat and pulls a face of disgust, taking a sip of his tea. 

They continue to eat for a small while, no one speaking, the Dursley’s eyes locked onto the television, Draco’s eyes staring at nothing and Harry’s staring at Draco. It seems peaceful, but that doesn’t last for long. 

The news breaks, Harry finally draws his attention away from Draco to watch. “Another sickening gang attack last night in East London. According to police the 22-year-old victim, Cameron Smith was walking home from his girlfriend’s flat at 3 am when he was jumped by three men, all of which’s faces were covered.”

“Immigrants, African ones I bet. I don’t know why they let such uncivilized folk come here and ruin our country on our dime. Leave them to rot, I say.” Vernon rants and Harry shudders. Harry is so distracted by Vernon's blatant racism that he forgets Draco is here, sitting right next to him for a moment. That changes when he turns to see Draco sitting there with a repulsed look on his face. 

Dragging his eyes away from the scene he remembers that he’s holding his wand, Vernon must have been watching Harry because he seemed to notice at the very same time. “What did I tell you, boy? Keep that thing locked up! There will be no filthy magic nonsense used in my household, I don’t care if your friend is here. .”

Harry, caught in the moment, a burst of confidence radiating out of him draws his wand on Vernon and spits back, now standing. “I’m allowed to use my magic on you now. I will. I’ll turn you into a pig.”

“I will _NOT_ take that from you.” Vernon also stands, the table being pushed by a thrust from his fat gut, slamming into both Draco and Harry, Harry watches Draco flinch from the corner of his eye, appearing scared of the hideous man that stood before him for a moment. That moment was short, but it filled Harry with a rage he’d only felt a small few times before, that rage being taken out by a green blast from his wand that landed not on Vernon, Dudley or Petunia but instead the television which exploded on impact. 

The explosion caused the power to short circuit and lights to flicker, both Dudley and Petunia scream in fright. Harry doesn’t flinch, nor does Draco who now has a smile planted on his face, very pleased by the screams of the Dursley family. 

Both Harry and Draco simply go back to eating while the rest of the family flee, leaving the kitchen and then finally out the front door with a bang, but not a word. If Harry had known it’d be that easy to get rid of the Dursley’s he’d have done it much sooner. 

“So… That’s your family? “ Draco had finally spoken to Harry. Of course, technically they spoke last night but Draco wasn’t himself, it wasn’t a real conversation. 

“No. Well, Petunia was my mother’s sister, but no.” Draco slowly nods, an expression on his face that harry for once can’t read. 

“Is he always like that?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” 

Harry finished his tea before clearing the table, collecting everyone’s plates before making his way to the sink to wash them. Draco thought this was strange because he got up and followed Harry, watching him clean. 

“You know you can use Scourgify on dishes.”

“Oh.” Harry held his hand up towards the table, mumbling. “ Accio wand.” His wand flew into his hand and he held it over the pile of plates and cups in the sink, mumbling again. “ Scourgify.” Harry felt stupid, he’d forgotten about magic in front of Draco of all people. 

“You really can be stupid, Potter. “ Draco adds, rather randomly in Harry’s opinion as he’d already finished Scourgify-ing all of the dishes and was about to sit back down. Nevertheless, Draco changes the subject before Harry can rebuttal. “What are we going to do today?”

Hard question. Harry didn’t do much of anything ever when he wasn’t at Hogwarts, despite the stress of having to put up with three of the biggest prudes this side of England for two months it was sort of his off time, given he’d usually spent the rest of the year fighting war criminals and all that. 

“What would you like to do?” Harry suddenly realized he doesn’t know anything about Draco’s interests. He knows he likes Quidditch, or at least he assumes he does but then again a small part of him reminds him that Draco likely only got into the sport to compete with him. 

“Walk.” 

“You want to go for a walk?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Harry got up, running a hand through his curly hair and a-lining it to the front door. Once there he bends over to slide on his shoes, black and white, absolutely tattered and far too big. They were bought for Dudley over two years ago but Dudley decided he hated them instantly, it was one of the best days of his life. 

When Harry stands again he turns and his eyes lock with Draco’s who’d been watching him the whole time. Confused, Harry raises an eyebrow but his expression quickly changes when Draco walks towards him, pressing him against the wall beside the door. Harry’s voice hitches as he scans Draco’s face for any sign of emotion, trying to work out what he’s thinking and feeling but he can’t- a part of him feels like Draco is going to hex the daylights out of him, or… or… His thoughts are lost in Draco’s cold, silver eyes for a moment, chills running down his spine. Draco looks like he’s about to say something but instead drops onto his knees, Harry’s eyes follow. 

Harry’s mind goes to all sorts of places as Draco drops to his knees. What is he doing? He looks so good down there… Harry fidgets with the bottom of his jumper, pulling it down over his bottom and front as soon as he realizes what Draco is doing. Fixing his shoes. 

Draco waves his wand over Harry’s shoes, murmuring a few spells Harry hasn’t heard of before. Harry’s shoes slowly start to fix themselves, shrinking to fit his feet, the holes and tears resewing themselves and the colour seeping back to them. By the time Draco was done they looked better than they had when they were new. 

Despite Harry’s wild fantasy not playing out as it did in his head he was grateful nonetheless, giving Draco a kind smile through his flustered posture and messy hair. Draco doesn’t smile back, but his pink neck and cheeks tell Harry all he needs to know. 

“I couldn’t leave the house with you wearing those.” 

“I know.”

Harry turns and unlocks the front door, holding it open for Draco and then follows behind him, out the door. 

After locking the door Harry turns to see Draco, looking around at all the houses on Privet drive, most of which looked identical apart from the varying decorations and cars parked in their driveways. “Let’s go.”

They walk side by side for what feels like hours, first to the park Harry would hang out at frequently when he was younger- Until Dudley decided to harass Harry enough that he didn’t want to anymore, then they walked past Stonewall High, the secondary school Harry would have gone to if it weren’t for Hogwarts. 

“This place looks horrendous,” Draco murmured, stopping in place to get a better look. “It reminds me of Durmstrang, but far more insignificant.” Harry laughed at the insignificant comment, nodding in agreement. He’d never seen Durmstrang, but he knew Stonewall was certainly nowhere near as important as the great Scandinavian Durmstrang institute. 

“Have you been to Durmstrang?” Harry asked, turning to face Draco. Draco walks around like he’s in a museum, hands behind his back as if he isn’t allowed to touch anything. He finds that to be funny.

“Yes, father wanted me to transfer by the end of the third year. We went there in person, he spoke to the headmaster who wouldn’t allow me to enrol because we lived too far away, and because of our reputation. “ Harry didn’t know how to reply to that without offending the other, but he didn’t have to because Draco continued. “ Did you know Gellert Grindelwald went to Durmstrang?”

“Who?”

“Gellert Grindelwald? One of the most powerful dark wizards ever, second only to Voldemort? Leader of the Wizarding Revolution? He wanted to enslave muggle-kind?”

Harry paused to think about it, he’d never paid attention in History of Magic but he’d certainly heard the name Grindelwald brought up many times. “Oh.”

Draco was now facing Harry, a smug look on his face. “Harry Potter, the boy who lived, best friend of Albus Dumbledore- entirely unaware of the man’s sociopathic ex-lover. You’ve got to be joking.”

Harry stood there, stunned, eyes wide, unresponsive. He couldn’t even think, it’s as if he had been petrified. 

“No? It’s worse than I thought… Well,” Draco cleared his throat, one arm crossed over, the other positioned in front of him, finger running over his bottom lip to think. “ Dumbledore and Grindelwald met when they were younger, around our age. No one knows the details because, as you could imagine, Dumbledore doesn’t bring it up much. They grew apart as you could imagine and in the end, Dumbledore was the one to give Gellert his sentence. He’s still in prison now.”

Harry finally moves, his lips parting as if he were speaking but not a sound leaving them until finally, “ Dumbledore is gay?” Is that allowed? Harry knows all too well Muggles opinions on gay people and had assumed they’re quite the same for wizards.

“Yes. He’s always been a revolutionary, even when it comes to who he _fucks._ The wizarding world is generally rather accepting to queer men in the same way they are to muggle-borns, but purebloods despise them. You can’t continue your bloodline if you can’t have kids and all that. My Uncle, Sirius Black, was disowned because he was caught with one of his friends when he was sixteen, my mother talks about it often. “

Harry takes a moment to process this, as there’s a lot to process. Dumbledore is gay? He had a sex life? Sirius is also gay? _Sirius is Draco’s uncle?_

The last part makes sense, he’d never really thought about Draco’s family tree in that way before, though, so it still mildly shocked him. Knowing that being gay was, for the most part, accepted in the wizarding world was a relief. Harry hadn’t the time to think about his sexuality, but he knows where his attraction lies.

“Are you hungry? I am. Let’s get some fast food .” 

Draco didn’t like the subject change and Harry knew it, he could feel Draco’s eyes burning into the side of his face as they walked towards the restaurant. Then, rather suddenly to Harry who’d thought the other had gone back to ignoring him, Draco asked what fast food is which led to Harry explaining what it is, which was hard considering he’d never had to do it before. It’s one of those things everyone seems to understand. 

“I don’t know how they make it that fast without magic, that’s kind of part of the enjoyment.” 

They were walking into the restaurant now, Draco this time holding the door for Harry and then an elderly woman who took up the opportunity before finally managing to enter the establishment himself. 

Harry glanced up at the menu, arms crossed over his chest. Harry hadn’t ever been able to order anything besides a kids meal his whole life and now that he had the opportunity to order something that might fill him, he hadn’t a clue what to pick.

After spending far too long deciding Draco ordered for the pair of them, just the normal burger meals with sides of fries and soda. When the cashier asked for money Draco held out his hand to Harry who handed over more than enough without a question. 

They ate in relative silence, sitting in a booth by the children’s play area. Draco has been staring at the rainbow play equipment the whole time and Harry can’t understand why surely he’s seen one before? And played in it? Harry has few happy memories, one of them is climbing up to the very top of the jungle gym, knowing very well Dudley couldn’t squeeze his bulgy body through the tunnels to get to him. It was fun. 

Without saying a word Draco suddenly stands and speeds towards the play area, opening the door and letting himself in. Before Harry can even react he hurdles himself up into the slide and disappears. Huh. 

Harry stands and follows after Draco, calling out for him when he enters the play area. “ Draco?”

No reply. 

Did he run off to hide and apparate away? Why wouldn’t he have told Harry where he was going? Harry’s mind became clouded with thoughts, conspiracies of Draco’s evil grand plans and what horrible things he could be doing at this very moment. 

Harry slips off his shoes and climbs up the tunnel slide, the same way Draco did, slipping a few times on his journey up the red slide. “Draco?”

Harry reaches the top of the slide and before his eyes can even focus to see whether anyone in there with him he’s pushed back, pinned against the wall of the tiny little box he found himself in. His glasses fly off his face and he goes into panic mode, grabbing the collar of whoever’s got a hold of him, trying to push them away. 

He stops when he feels his attacker slide his glasses back onto his face, yelling out a fast “ I got you!” Harry’s eyes adjust to see a giant, cocky smile on a pale, angular, but breathtakingly flawless face. Draco.

“You assume the word of me, Potter. I’m merely playing. “ Draco rolls his eyes and smirks. Harry can feel the warmth of Draco’s exhale on his lips, the heat radiating off of Draco’s skin. Harry had always assumed Draco would be cold to the touch, a stupid assumption to make about any living being but Draco’s ghostly pale skin made a younger Harry think of a corpse. He now only sees an angel, full of life. 

Harry feels his thoughts getting the best of him, he hasn’t responded to Draco and time is going by faster than he’d like it to be. It’s hard, thinking when you’re looking into the eyes of something you’ve unconsciously desired for so long, especially when that something is leaning closer and closer, and you think he’s about to kiss you. Draco Malfoy is about to kiss me. 

But he doesn’t, Draco pushes Harry aside and sits back against the opposite wall of the tiny little plastic box they’d found themselves in. 

This gave Harry all the time he needed to calm down and regather his thoughts, Draco had only been by his side for a day and Harry had himself believing it’d been years, all leading up to a romantic climax. He knows it’s stupid and that it’s all in his head, but he’s never been able to control his thoughts, especially when a lot of them aren’t his, to begin with. 

  
  


The rest of the day went on without any issues, after lunch they decided to head home and quickly after that Draco went to sleep once more. Harry spent the time struggling to finish his homework, constantly being distracted by Draco who spoke in his sleep. Seamus speaks in his sleep but what he says is usually inaudible, or its only an embarrassing confession towards his friend dean. In Draco’s case, however, his speaking was panicked, talking of terrible things that Harry can’t understand. 

Finally, late into the night, Draco’s cries stopped and Harry could, still thinking about Draco. 

\---

The rest of the week was odd, to say the least. Draco slowly came out of his shell and went back to bullying Harry, but now it’s far more innocent. Harry, despite everything he’s come to believe about Draco, can’t deny his feelings, he’s fallen for him and hard at that. Harry hasn’t ever been in love, he knows that now because this feeling is intense, horrible and lovely at the very same time. He’s read books and watched movies all about love, but nothing compares to the real thing.

They’d been alone for over a week after their little argument the Dursley’s fled the house to go on a very urgent vacation, both Draco and Malfoy only finding out about this through a little note stuck on the fridge. 

Aunt Petunia had fallen very ill and they were leaving for the next month to be with her, the note stressing that Harry shouldn’t try to contact them. Harry knew better than to think the Dursley's would ever leave him at home alone on any occasion, it was something to do with the fact Harry is now allowed to use magic. 

Harry enjoyed himself greatly for the upcoming week, the independence that came with being able to do whatever he wants whenever he wants felt like a dream come true. He and Draco caught a bus to London and found themselves in Diagon alley, both of the boys taking money out of their vaults to spend on things like food. 

In between trips out, Harry spent a lot of his time writing to both Ron and Hermione. Previously, Vernon had made it very clear that Harry wasn’t allowed to owl anyone and if Vernon had it his way poor Hedwig wouldn’t ever be allowed of her cage. 

Grocery shopping was strange, to say the least, neither he or Draco had done such a thing before so they were lost. Between explaining how muggle checkouts work and the way Draco grabs Harry’s wrist to gain his attention, Harry was very distracted. The shopping trip was a fail, in the end, they only ended up purchasing a bunch of candy and a whole, raw chicken. Neither of them knew how to cook. 

He’d almost forgotten about Hogwarts, it wasn’t until midway through the final week Draco brought up the fact they have to buy books. Harry owled both Ron and Hermione to see if they could meet up in Diagon Alley but unfortunately, both of them had already bought their book. 

Harry sat in bed, reading Ron’s letter over and over again, frowning. He had been in contact with Ron for the past week, he doesn’t understand why Ron never mentioned the fact he and Hermione were meeting up to him, he would have loved to come. Then again, Harry hadn’t mentioned Draco either so he guesses they’re both hiding something. 

Halfway through writing a response letter to Ron, detailing the events that lead up to Draco becoming his new roommate and, as scary as it sounds, friend the man of the hour walked into their joint room and sat at the end of the bed, 

Harry looks up from his parchment, placing it aside along with his self-inking quill. He can’t help but notice how good Draco looks in his new suit, all black and perfectly tailored to compliment his behind. Harry appreciates that a lot. “Yes?”

Draco doesn’t respond, instead of kicking off his shoes ( which, for a reason Harry can’t understand, he wears inside.) and slides behind Harry, laying down behind him in the bed. 

Without questioning the other Harry lies down next to him, facing him with a shy smile on his face. To think only two weeks ago Harry would have preferred to kill Draco than snuggle with him was bizarre looking back now, and Harry wouldn’t have it any other way. 

With a wave of Gryffindor courage rushing through him, Harry places his hand on Draco’s waist and pulls him closer. He can’t help but think that it’s fortunate that Draco is so much taller than him because otherwise, he wouldn’t be able to lay his head on Draco’s chest like he is now. 

What the hell is going on? His Harry dreaming? Has he died? How did Draco go from having his guts to cuddling into him in less than two weeks? Before Harry could truly freak out Draco decided to speak, his voice hushed in a calm whisper. 

“Potter? Do you remember when we first met?” Harry doesn’t have to even think of the memory as it’s never left him, always at the front of his mind as if it only happened yesterday. “Madam Malkin’s. I was getting my robes and you introduced yourself, I thought you were a snob.” 

Harry regrets the last comment instantly, tensing up, expecting a negative reaction out of Draco. He was wrong. 

Draco laughs, quietly as to not hurt Harry’s ears. “I wrongfully assumed the same as you. The boy who lived, famous, handsome, humble? That didn’t make sense to me. I thought I'd impress you, but I've never been a good judge of character. I learnt about you growing up as all kids did, father didn’t speak about you in such a good light as you could imagine but regardless I wanted to be your friend.”

Harry has a lot to take in. Handsome? Draco knew who Harry was when they first met? Harry’s _friend_? Harry had always assumed that Draco ‘s only ever intention was to be Harry’s rival. \

“You thought I was handsome?

“That’s all you got from that?”

“No! I… Er… I just-”

“I didn’t _think_ you _were_ handsome. I _know_ you _are_ handsome, **Harry**.”

That is the very first time Harry heard Draco say his first name in a way that wasn’t condescending. Draco had always referred to him as ‘Potter’ and on the rare occasion he’d comment ‘the famous Harry Potter’ but Draco never, ever just called him Harry. That, and the sudden realization of what Draco was hinting at made Harry’s head spin, but regardless Harry wasn’t going to let Draco dominate this conversation. Not now, not ever. 

“ I’ve always thought you were very handsome, like an elf or a fairy. Angelic, you know? Flawless in every way, perfect pointed features that make you look masculine but pretty. You’re perfect.” Harry slowly leans back, away from Draco’s chest to look up at him. Draco’s usually pale, colourless skin is glowing pink and it makes Harry’s heart flutter. He wants to kiss him. 

Draco clears his throat and replies, speaking rather matter-of-factly. “Well. You have no flaws, physically gorgeous, of course, but you’re also the perfect person on the inside. Selfless, brave, committed, a hero. You’re willing to do anything for anyone, I mean, you even took _me_ in. The prude little boy who’d bullied you for years at school, you took me in and cared for me when I needed you most. You’ve treated me better than anyone else I've ever met and for what? You could have said no, you didn’t have to run me a bath, undress me, tend to my wounds. You won’t get any reward from doing so... You inspire me, you give me hope- I look at you and think “if someone can be this lovely, maybe the world isn’t that bad after all.” I think, when I was younger, I envied you for that. I knew all too well I couldn't ever be as courageous or caring as you are and I assumed for a long time that you were pretending to be this… this perfect person, but it’s not pretending, which is insane. “

Harry, without thinking, began to speak. The words ran out of his mouth as if someone had opened the faucet on his heart and let all of his feelings finally flow free.

“You think too little of yourself, Draco. You’re so confident and you can command a room with ease, you’re powerful and everyone knows it. You might think that people fear you because of your father, or because of the dark lord, or I don’t know, because of your godfather but that’s not true. You hold yourself in such a glamourous, effortless sort of way, you seem unaffected by the weight that I know is on your shoulders. I wish I could be like you, be so powerful and dominant, a leader. I’m not a leader. “

Harry feels Draco’s arms wrap around him and he does the same back. They hold each other like this for a long time, in silence.

Eventually, Harry fell asleep. 

\---

Harry wakes in the morning to find Draco sleeping in his arms, startled at first he remembers the night prior clearly. It’s strange, how things have changed so drastically within the past few weeks but he couldn’t be happier- he’d even almost forgotten about the dark lord. Almost. 

Harry leans in, nuzzling into the back of Draco’s neck for a few more moments, taking in his scent and feeling his soft hair against his face before he finally getting up and out of the bed, having to crawl over the other to properly escape. 

Harry has a long, peaceful bath, taking his time to wash every part of his body carefully because he simply feels like it. It’s only when his fingers start to wrinkle does he decide to get out, getting dressed and exiting the bathroom in only a towel.

He’s surprised to see Draco’s still in their room, fully dressed, fixing his cuffs in the mirror all while eyeing himself. To be fair, if Harry looked like Draco he’s sure he’d spend days looking at himself in the mirror too. 

“Sorry, uh, didn't think you’d still be in here. You’re always downstairs. “ Harry walks over to his wardrobe, finding himself something to wear. He figured he’d dress nicer than usual today, partially to impress Draco and also because they were heading to Diagon Alley. 

“I slept in.” Draco walks over and stands beside Harry, and now they’re both looking at one another in the reflection of the mirror that hung on Harry’s wardrobe door. 

They stare at one another for a while until Harry finally meets Draco. He's snapped awake from his lovey-dovey stare. He grabs the clothes he was looking for and bolts back to the bathroom to get dressed.

It’s a few hours later and they’ve just arrived at Diagon Alley. The rush of Hogwarts students bustling about flicks a switch in his mind and brings him back to reality. He and Draco will be going back to Hogwarts in a matter of days, he’ll see Hermione, Ron, Hagrid and Dumbledore again and things will go back to normal again- but how could they? 

Draco and Harry are friends now, true friends. They’ve slept in the same bed and accidentally shared underwear more times than Harry would like to admit. Will Draco simply go back to hanging out with his foul Slytherin army? Will he continue to bully Harry and his friends as he did before? Or will he instead befriend Hermione and Ron? How will they react to their new friendship?

Harry’s spiralling thoughts were cut off when Draco pulled Harry along by his sleeve, almost causing Harry to fall over. 

They’re just walking by Florean Fortescue’s, the ice cream parlour Harry had spent a large portion of the summer prior eating at. “This place is really good, I came here every day when I was staying in the leaky cauldron.” 

“When did you stay at the leaky cauldron?” Draco asks as they continue to walk side by side, close enough that their hands touched 

“The end of last summer? You don’t know? Well… I guess you wouldn’t. Huh. Well, accidentally blew up my Aunt. I ran away from home and the ministry paid for a room. “ Harry smiles at the memory. At the time it was scary, he thought he was going to be expelled from Hogwarts and have to spend the rest of his days as a troglodyte. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. 

“Your aunt? The one that’s currently ill? Pfft.” Draco laughs before continuing to question Harry. “ Why did the Ministry cover you like that? It seems rather unorthodox.”

“Sirius. They didn’t want him to find me and at the time he was hiding in muggle London, the Minister came and everything.” 

“God, you’re such a drama, Harry.”

They continue walking to the bookstore, grabbing everything they need. Draco insisted on paying for Harry’s books and eventually Harry had caved in. Harry had discovered during their time together that Draco’s father had an account at every single store in Diagon Alley which met they’re spending Lucius’ money rather than Draco’s. Nonetheless, in retaliation to being spoilt like this Harry demanded he pays for their lunch. 

They decided to eat at Florean Fortescue’s, sharing a very large Sunday between them both. Florean was very happy to see Harry and very surprised to see Draco, referring to him as “Mr Malfoy” which Harry thought was rather funny. 

“This is **so** good. The caramel? Stunning.” Draco’s face had light up at the very first bite of their Sunday and has continued to stay that way the whole time. Seeing Draco like this only reminds Harry that he is very much in love with Draco, his heart fluttering at the other’s smiles. Draco Malfoy is _gorgeous._

Harry has barely eaten, too anxious- or excited? He can't tell. He’s too busy watching Draco, watching how Draco slowly lowered his hand and placed it on top of Harry’s that sat on the table, watching how he doesn’t flinch away when Harry decides to hold his hand. How could this day get any better?

It got better. After lunch, Draco demanded they go for a walk in a park just outside of Diagon Alley and Harry agreed. They walked for a while just as close as before but when they finally were out of sight Draco took Harry’s hand in his. 

They continue to walk, Harry isn’t paying attention to where they’re going, in a state of pure, careless bliss. His eyes wander between the side of Draco’s face and their joined hands. 

The scene is gorgeous, they’re walking down a small cobblestone path surrounded by nothing but tall, blossoming trees, the sun peeking in between their entwined branches. They come to a stop at a break between the trees, Harry only now noticing the river ran alongside the path. 

Harry moves to stand in front of Draco, eyes still on their hands, his face crimson red and eyes bright. When he finally gathers the courage to look up he’s taken aback as he feels something he hasn’t felt before; a pair of two, soft lips pressing against his.

Draco is kissing him. 

Harry does his best to kiss back for that brief moment. The kiss was perfect; longer than a peck, but short enough to be classy… Romantic. Harry desperately tries to read Draco’s expression but fails because his vision is blurred by the imaginary clouds overwhelming his brain and fogging his vision.

Harry retaliates, kissing Draco again, almost knocking the other off his feet their lips collide. This kiss was just as romantic as the one prior but lasted a lot longer. and only ended when Draco pulled away for air. 

“I-” They both begin to speak at the same time, “That-” And again. 

Draco manages to finally speak freely. “You first.” 

“Why?” Harry burst out, eyes widening at the tone of his voice, he corrects himself. “ I-i mean, I'm not mad but confused. Why did you kiss me?”

Draco looks confused, tilting his head and furrowing his brows. “ Because I fancy you? “

Harry realizes how stupid his question sounded and holds a hand to his forehead before continuing. “But why? Since when? How- What-”

“Harry, you ignorant git. I’ve always fancied you, surely you’ve realized that by now? Must I spell everything out for you? Well, I've come to terms with my feelings as of late but they’ve always been there. Lurking. And I feel, no, I know you feel the same. So I kissed you.”

Harry nods his head as Draco speaks, running a hand through his head of wild hair, thinking of how perhaps Draco was meant to be a Gryffindor all along- he’s certainly brave enough. “Well, you’re right about that.” Harry exhales through his nose in a half-hearted, embarrassed laugh before continuing. “Your turn.

“Well, I merely hope we can do this again sometime- if not most of the time, from now on.” 

“That's it?”

“Yes, Harry. That’s it.”

“I would love to.”

Harry reaches over to take Draco’s hand in his, giving it a tight squeeze before asking him a question that's been on his mind for the past week. “ What now?” 

“Now? Well, I think we should do as we please and deal with every obstacle as it comes our way. I’m sure there will be a lot of them. “

“Okay.”

\----

  
  


Harry is glad to find that platform 9 ¾ is the same as he remembered it. Loud, energetic, crowded, full of Hogwarts students and their excited parents. Harry knows all too well that this platform and the train that sat before it on the tracks are probably the only things that’ll be the same this year, with Voldemort lurking around every corner, going into his fourth year and now being very, very close to Draco Malfoy things couldn’t ever be the same. 

His thoughts are cut short when he feels someone grab his hand, that someone being Draco himself. He smiles up at him and Draco smiles back, they stay there a moment before Draco speaks “I’ll be right back.”

Draco walks off, leaving Harry with his trolley, stacked high with trunks of his belongings, Hedwig sitting on top in his cage looking as proud as ever. He pushes his heavy trolley closer to the train, looking to have his things loaded aboard when his eyes land on a certain lanky boy, adorned with a mop of fiery red hair. 

“Ron!” 

Before Harry knows it he has two sets of arms wrapped around him, and another set snatching his cart from his hands. Hermione, Ron and Mrs Weasley. 

“How have you both been?” 

Ron begins to conjure up something to say but Hermione intervenes “Grand! Oh, I missed you, Harry. How have _you_ been? I’ve read all your letters, about your aunt and uncle… and _Draco_. “

“Yeah, I want to hear more about all of this Draco Malfoy roommate business. You were being pretty vague,”

“Right. “

Harry goes on to explain to the pair of them how Dumbledore, McGonagal and some guy named Kingsley Shackelbolt showed up in the middle of the night with Draco in tote. He describes in great detail how Draco was sickly ill and covered in wounds, conveniently leaving out details about how the pair grew to be friends. The story took a long time to explain between having to backtrack to mention details he’d forgotten like how their underage magic ban had been lifted and how the Dursley’s fled in fear and Ron asking question after question. 

“All aboard!”

Draco didn’t come back. It was time to board the train and Draco is nowhere to be seen. Following both Hermione and Ron, being pushed by the crowd Harry tries his best to see if he can spot Draco in the distance- he can’t.

A sinking feeling overwhelms him as he drawls behind his friends, his mind going on a small, dreadful adventure as usual. Where could Draco have gone? Did he find his Slytherin friends and abandon him just like that? Is he nothing to Draco? Will things go back to the horrible way they were?

These thoughts don’t stop as they sit down in their compartment. Ron and Hermione are both excitedly talking to one another about something called the Tri-Wizard tournament but Harry isn’t listening, he’s mourning.

Mourning he and Draco’s whirlwind romance, that had apparently ended right then and there. The train is about to leave the platform and Draco isn’t anywhere in sight. Harry can see Draco waltzing off the train in the classy way he does, snickering at Harry and throwing him an insult, pretending as if nothing ever happened. The thought feels so real he has to convince himself it is just that- a thought. 

Suddenly Harry hears the compartment door slide open and he looks up from the ground, his eyes landing on a pair of icy silver eyes.

Draco slides into the compartment, a kind smile on his face, hands full of candy- lollipops. 

“For you, Weasley“ He hands him an orange pop and he hesitantly takes it, his face contorted in an expression of pure confusion, stunned by the fact Draco Malfoy is _smiling_. “And you, Granger. Harry informed me you have a preference for lemon flavouring but sadly the trolley witch hadn’t had any so I settled for grape. “ Hermione graciously takes hers, a kind smile flashed towards Draco and as he looked away she gave Harry an eyebrow raise, expressing how impressed she is. 

“And for you, of course.” Draco sits next to Harry, almost on top of him and hands him a heart-shaped lollipop, watermelon flavoured rather than strawberry- Harry’s preference. 

“I’m quite good friends with the trolley witch- she lets me buy candy beforehand so I don’t miss out on my favourites. I thought I'd put that privilege to good use.”

They sit there for a while in silence before Draco leans down to whisper in Harry’s ear. “ Sorry for not coming back to you on the platform, Harry. I had… Well, I'll talk to you about it when we’re alone. “

Harry nods, leaning into Draco’s touch, a smile on his face. He feels as if nothing can worry him when Draco is by his side. 

Harry scans his friends' faces, Hermione looks rather happy with her lollipop and, to be fair, Ron does too. The only difference is that Ron has this expression on his face, an expression Harry can’t read. 

Nonetheless, Harry is happy, watching the train finally leave the platform he feels something he’d never felt before- content. He’s content with his friendships and relationship, no longer clouded by the pathetic worry that he’d have to look Draco Malfoy, a boy he fantasizes about, dead in the eye as he expresses his hate for him. 

Draco Malfoy is no longer the boy Harry dreads to see, but the boy Harry loves to hold and things couldn't be any better. 

All is well.

For now. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm already planning a second part to this fic so please leave your appreciation via comments & kudos! nothing is more motivational than praise ;-]


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